Michael Blackson Stand Up Novels & Stories

The Last Man Standing. Michael was sitting on the van looking at those zombies how they're in pain, and how they're craving for human flesh to devour. At that moment Michael felt like the world was slowly disappearing infront of him, or maybe it was just him who is fading away. The black hole in his head deep inside his soul slowy swallowing all his hopes and dreams. That was the worst moment.

Jack: " you will get to know about it soon.. but one thing I can say, Michael is not good as what you thought... he is womaniser..." I got angry.. me: " SHUT UP.. HOW DARE YOU?? HE IS NICE PERSON... THEN WHAT ABOUT YOU.. USING GIRLS FOR ONE NIGHT STAND..?? " **********////////////***********

As I drew closer, I saw the way the wolfsbane had weakened his steps, and my heart ached at the sight. Gently, I took his arm, guiding him the rest of the way. "Let's get you seated, Mr. Blackwood," I murmured, easing him down onto the wooden swing. Once he was settled, I glanced back towards the standoff unfolding between Michael and Robert. The tension in the air was intense, their fangs bared as if they were mere moments away from unleashing their wolves. Michael turned to Robert, his voice dark and full of unspoken threats. "The person you came for wants nothing to do with you. Leave before I call my brother on you."

I walked into the summit venue through the side entrance and followed the noise to the main hall and pushed the door open. The presentation screen was white. Completely blank. Not a single slide on it. Reporters were already on their feet with cameras out, questions flying. I scanned the stage and there she was, standing behind the microphone in front of a room full of wolves that were already booing and screaming at her. An Alpha near the front was already on his feet running his mouth about Moonlight’s falling off and I recognized him immediately. Xavier of Blackwood. Xavier speaks just for the sake of having a voice. His reputation in rooms is nothing to write home about.

“You’re not investors. You’re opportunists. And I have no room for you here.” Bronson cleared his throat. His voice was oily, trying to sound reasonable. “Now, Stacy, let’s not be hasty. Business is business. If a compelling offer was made, it’s only natural to consider it. It’s not personal.” “It’s all personal,” Michael said. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. Every head turned to him. He placed his hands flat on the table, pushing himself to his feet. He was so tall, so broad in the dark suit, he seemed to block out the light from the window.

There are faint sounds of people who are working and gisting, but the instant Michael appears, the noise dies down, and the whole place goes quiet like a graveyard. I whoosh a breath as Michael sets me back on my feet. That gives me a fleeting chance to see the women and men dressed in black maid uniforms, cleaning the house. “All of you out!” Michael roars. His dark booming voice causes them to flinch, and with immediate effect, they all flee. That leaves just the both of us, and the prospect of what he’ll do to me now makes a boulder form in the pit of my belly. I watch him silently as he removes his hat, jacket, and suit, then sits on the largest of the cream colored couches with cream an

We found a bench near a small fountain and sat down. "It's really beautiful here," Michael said as he took a sip from his coffee cup. Over time I noticed he only drinks his coffee black. I asked him why and he told me when it is black it's at its purest. Undiluted and untouched. I thought it was a great answer. "Yes, it is," I said smiling at him. God, he was so freaking good-looking. And I felt the envy of every woman who passed and looked our way, scowling at me. I don't have to tell you what color they were.

I ordered, my tone leaving no room for argument. To my absolute shock, Michael stood up first, his movements slow and deliberate. “Fine. Let’s go.” The rain froze mid-snicker, staring at Michael like he’d grown a second head. “Wait, what? You’re agreeing? Just like that?” Michael shrugged, his tone flat and unbothered. “Do you want me to argue?” Colby let his chair drop back to all four legs with a loud thud, smirking as he stood up. “This might be the first time I’ve seen you voluntarily do something that isn’t work or punching something.”

Leave it to Lin to try and lighten the mood of a serious situation with an inappropriately timed joke. “I just don’t understand why he hasn’t sent over a security team or something! He is like a bazillionaire, isn’t he? He needs to step it up and take responsibility.” “He has just as much to lose as I do,” I said, sinking onto our worn-out sofa. I was still trying to catch my breath from being followed by some man all the way from my gym. If I were to guess, it was probably the same man who was trying to blackmail Michael through me.

He wore faded black jeans with a beige shirt. Blake side burns where already greying, though he wasn’t that much older than Michael, his eyes dark brown, with a neatly cut hair and neatly shaven face. He sat down on the stool beside Michael, patting him on the knee as he adjusted himself to seat comfortably. “Oh, it’s nothing.” Michael said, putting his phone away, as he gestured for the bar man to bring two drinks. “So, what do you have for me?” Blake asks, opening the cold bottle the barman just brought.